Why I don't pay my Nanny

See, hubs went away for the weekend. Of course, it is a 3 day weekend, kids being out of school Monday, and I am certain that I will most definitely strangle my eldest child and her sassy fresh mouth if left alone unsupervised with her for 3 days. So I do what any sane, self-surviving mommy would do. I call for reinforcement. My almost (2 months and like 7 days, we calculated) 15 year old niece to the rescue.... Dun-dun-da-da! Super-Sammy!
She is my rock. Old enough that she can stay up late and watch lousy movies with me, young enough that she has unending patience. She and I have always had that special Aunt-niece relationship. Don't know why, just have. She is happy to get away from her own brother and sister, I am so appreciative of the basically grown up company. Win-Win, ya know?

So, Saturday comes, Sam arrives, the world is good. The kids both have friends over to play, so Sam gets some time to just chill. When the friends go home, Me, Samantha, Erin and Haley go out for dinner and a movie and ice cream. Great night. Everyone goes to bed, not problem.

The morning comes, and Sammy, being the true gem that she is, gets up and makes my kids breakfast. Not the cold cereal and frozen waffle that they are used to either, mind you. I am talking a nice, hot cheesy omelet, toast, the whole nine yards. The kid practically set the table with fine china and a rose, I am telling you. Not only that, but she DID THE DISHES!!!! I mean, hello, can I bottle her? My husband doesn't even do that?

Yeah, all good so far, I am snoozing in bed, keeping my lazy self warm, listening to the antics as big cousin plays with the little ones. The sound of laughing and chasing in the air. Life is good.

Then there is the sound.

You know the sound.

It is The Sound of Something Very Bad Happening.

It is not a good sound.

The sound is followed by Erin and Haley running up the stairs at full force yelling "Mommy, mommy, come quick, Sammy fell and put a Hole in the wall!"

Um, is she ok?
Yeah, we think so.
Oh. Ok. I will be down in a minute.

Now Samantha, you see, is a bit clumsy. Ok, a lot clumsy. We are all used to this. You will notice after "The Very Bad Sound" I didn't go rushing. I was not doing the mother-run to see what was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time this kid has fallen and hurt herself. or something.

About a minute later when the girls came back upstairs, running. out of breath. smiling. like their father would have been. They said, "We have to call the ambulance, Sammy can't walk!" Ok, now I was at least curious. I got up, brushed my teeth and came down to this.

Don't move Sam! I say. Aunt Michelle is here to help! Poor kid thinks I am going to get her ice or something. Maybe some ace bandage to wrap it in, at least some Tylenol for the pain, right? Nope. No such luck. No Florence Nightengale am I. I come back with my camera and say "Everyone look at me!"

This is so totally a blogable moment. and maybe a scrapbook page too?

The best part is this. I text Ira a picture of the hole and label it "Sam's handy work". He spent the rest of the afternoon skiing wondering how the hell she could have put her knee through a 4 inch section of wall between two rooms going down a step. Only Sam could have managed that. I don't think she is even certain how it happened.

Yeah. This is so why I don't pay the hired help.